


Untamed Hearts

by Layne Faire (HisDarlin)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, Artist Zayn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Surfer Liam, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, face it - there's a lot to be resolved, gratuitous distortion of UK weather, non-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 14:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14833931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisDarlin/pseuds/Layne%20Faire
Summary: It could have been the heat of the summer sun; it might have been the silvered sheen of an early harvest moon. If he dug deep enough, Liam could find every reason ever needed to explain away what happened. In the end, though, it all came down to two meddling friends, a touch of Prince, a bit of Keats, and the moon over the ocean. Its a recipe for disaster. Or love. Probably love.Written for Round 1 of the One Direction BigBang





	Untamed Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been four+ years in the making. It's been started and shelved more times than I care to admit, and its only due to the concerted support and often (not so) gentle prodding of several of my writing friends, (Sus, Shai, Lauren, Jacky, Ashlee, and so many more) that it's finally seeing the light of day. Much love and gratitude to them for believing in my writing when I couldn't believe in myself. 
> 
> Thank you for the BigBang mods for their patience and understanding when my work situation went from barely full time to mandatory overtime with no notice. They've been gracious enough to let me post this in two parts. The second part will post closer to the end of June.
> 
> I must thank my lovely betas, [Bec](https://tositandadmire.tumblr.com/) and [Jacky](https://dimpled-halo.tumblr.com/), for making this fit for public consumption, and my britpicker, [Becky](https://ponymom-stuff.tumblr.com/), for ensuring this hapless Yank didn't butcher the British references. Finally, thank you also to [Jacky](https://dimpled-halo.tumblr.com/) for creating the perfect moodboards to bring this little summer love story to life.
> 
> Story title inspired by One Direction's Story of My Life, chapter title from Prince's Girls and Boys
> 
> Finally, please do not share this with members of the band, their family, or their friends. Fanfiction is for fans. Let's keep it that way.

 

 

“Move your arse, Payno! The waves won’t last forever!” Louis’ voice reverberated through the wooden cottage, booming off the plank walls, filling the corners with his own brand of sunshine. While he may have spent the past three years in London, the summers spent in Saltburn-by-the-Sea and his frequent trips home had ensured the Doncaster lad retained his broad Yorkshire accent.

Liam Payne shook his head in amusement at the familiar hailing. Snatching his duffle off the floor, Liam jerked the door shut behind him without bothering to lock it. His parents had owned the cottage before his sister Ruth had been born, and even with the burgeoning summer crowds, there had never been a single speck of trouble.

Shoving on his Wayfarers to protect his eyes from the unusually bright early morning sun, Liam squinted across the expanse of shale and sand that comprised the drive to where his best friend leaned against his battered black Land Rover, surfboards hanging out the open hatch.

Louis Tomlinson had literally barreled into his life eight years earlier, when, as a scrappy fourteen year old grom, he had shown up on the beach dragging a longboard taller than he was, with enough attitude to make up the size difference. Brash and over-confident after several good runs, Louis had tackled a wave beyond his skill. The resultant wipe-out had thrown the smaller boy right in front of Liam, before the breakers had pulled him under. Snagging his leash, Liam had jerked him out of the water, winning Louis’— dubious undying devotion and friendship.

Their two year age gap hadn’t hindered their friendship— Liam had grown up early, it seemed like Louis never would. When Louis came out the summer before Liam’s seventeenth birthday, after his first year of uni, it hadn't changed things either. Liam took it all in stride as part and parcel of who Louis was. Good that, as Louis had shown him the same support after his failed fresher romance, when he realized he fancied his girlfriend’s brother more than he had her. 

While they spent little time with each other from September to June, relying on phone calls, text messages, and the occasional Skype to stay in touch, from the minute school had let out for summer hols, they’d lived on the white sands of the Northern Yorkshire coast. Even Liam eschewing joining Louis in London, opting for the more low-key environment at University of Manchester, hadn’t dented the strong bond they’d formed over the years.

Liam stopped at the side of the cottage to gather his boards from where he’d stored them against the pylons when he’d arrived, but juggling the two boards and his bag proved more difficult than he expected. Looking up to catch Louis’ attention, he stuck his fingers between his lips and let loose a long, sharp whistle. Startled, Louis pulled his attention away from whoever was still tucked up inside the car. Liam checked the zippers on his bag one last time, before tossing it down the driveway in Louis’ direction. Then, settling the boards under his arms, he lightly jogged out to join Louis at the back of the battered maroon Land Rover.

Pausing to dump the boards into the open hatch next to Louis’, Liam spun around to greet the shorter man.

“It’s been too fucking long, man. Three damn months without a visit!” Liam exclaimed, pulling Louis in for a hug and pounding him on the back.

‘You know, that road goes both directions, bro. You could have driven to see me just as easily.” Louis taunted, leaning into the familiar embrace. “Look at you! If it weren’t for Skype calls, I never would have recognized you.” He leaned back, eyeing his friend up and down, taking in the stylish haircut, attractive scruff, and defined physique Liam had acquired since he last saw him. “Christ, Li! No wonder you don’t have time for old friends. Looking like this, you’ve probably found plenty of new ones.”

Liam waved off the compliment and ignored the suggestive eyebrow waggle, opting instead to answer Louis’ retort. “Eh, you and Hazza don’t need to try to squeeze me into your little flat for a stray weekend. Besides, some of us _do_ actually study when we’re at Uni.”

"Oi! I study!”

“Your boyfriend’s anatomy doesn’t count, especially when you’re working on a teaching degree in English and Theatre.” Punctuating his words with a wink, Liam ducked the slap Louis attempted to level at his head. “Is your better half in the car, then? I haven’t seen him since last summer.”

"Nah, Harry will be here late next week. He had to finish up some stuff for his internship to lock down his placement for the fall.”

While Louis spoke, Liam walked to the passenger’s side, stopping in his tracks when the front door opened and a pair of thin legs clad in black skinny jeans emerged, accompanied by a small cloud of smoke. The knees of the jeans were ripped to shreds, with the faintest hint of pale mocha colored skin peeking out, and a pair of battered Doc Martens scuffled through the loose shale of the driveway.

“At least I didn’t have to make the drive alone,” Louis continued, “You remember –“

“Malik,” Liam said, his stomach knotting with tension.

“Liam,” the lanky boy exiting the car replied, an amused smirk lifting the corner of his lips. “Long time, no see.”

“Obviously not long enough,” Liam retorted under his breath.

Zayn Malik got under Liam’s skin; he had for the last two summers. He and Harry had been in some literature or art class together and hit it off. They’d been inseparable ever since, despite the fact that their friendship made zero sense – even less so than Louis and Liam’s did.  Zayn was Harry’s antithesis in every way – from their personalities, to their appearance, to their relationships – and Liam had yet to figure out how gentle, sincere, serious, _intelligent_ Harry had anything in common with the sardonic, abrasive, prankster skate punk. He probably never would.   

Affecting an air of nonchalance, Liam leaned against the door of the SUV, then cleared his throat. “Didn’t expect to see you this summer.”

“I’m sure,” Zayn replied with another exhalation of smoke, before stubbing out the cigarette. Liam wrinkled his nose, ire tightening his jaw at Zayn’s next words. “Yet here we both are.”

Ignoring the baiting dig, Liam eyed Zayn’s leather jacket and tattered jeans. “You’re not actually going to the beach, are you?”

“Aren’t you cute?” Zayn reached out to pat Liam’s cheek, chuckling wryly when he jerked his head away. “Nah, man. Hate to disappoint you, but I’m not crashing your little surf date – just hopping a ride with Lou to the skate park. You can have the front. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your little reunion chat.”

Zayn stepped past Liam, his leather-clad shoulder pushing him back against the door. Bristling, Liam straightened, his hand curling into a fist to prevent shoving the smaller man. Every damn summer, it never changed, and Liam had just about had enough. This year, there was no way in hell –

“C’mon Liam! Let’s get a move on before all the groms invade the beach!”

Louis’ voice snapped him out of his homicidal musings. Ignoring Zayn’s sneering smile, Liam pulled himself into the front seat of the Land Rover, kicking aside the ever-present empty bottle and fast food bags to make room for his feet.

“Wasn’t that long ago you were one of those groms, Tommo. Take it easy on them this year.” Liam teased, determined to not allow the punk in the back seat to ruin his summer again.

  
  


Liam tried to ignore Zayn, or, at best, not allow him to push Liam’s buttons. His intentions proved hard to live up to, though, when Zayn went out of his way to wind him up.

If Liam liked a song, Zayn leaned forward and changed the channel. When Liam asked about Louis’ finals, Zayn interrupted with a story about a party he’d been to before they left school. And when Liam gave up, turning his attention to checking his messages on his phone, Zayn leaned through the seats, effectively shutting Liam out of the conversation.

Typical. Zayn’s incessant need to be the center of attention was nothing new. Liam had long ago resigned himself to the fact that Zayn would monopolize as much of Louis’ time as he could when they were all together. The first summer he had tailed along with Harry to the beach it had happened so often, Liam had even become concerned that Louis and Harry were having problems due to the other boy’s interference. Harry’s unconcerned acceptance of the friendship had dispelled much of that, but every now and again, the doubts niggled the edges of his thoughts. Biting the inside of his cheek to stifle the rising resigned sigh, Liam leaned quietly against the door, his eyes greedily searching the horizon for the freedom the skate park would provide.

Liam didn’t miss the inquisitive lift of Louis’ eyebrow, the side-eyed glances he shot between Liam and Zayn. While a shake of Liam’s head warned Louis off saying anything, he knew it wouldn’t be the end of it – not if the decided set of Louis’ jaw was anything to go by. To be honest, Louis could hold an entire conversation based strictly on his facial expressions alone, and after eight years of friendship, Liam could read him like a book. He didn’t look forward to the verbal berating to come.

Zayn opened the door of the SUV the minute Louis began to slow down, the blinker signaling the upcoming turn into the parking lot of the skatepark. Dropping his skateboard out the door and planting his feet on it, he used the door handle to tow himself into the parking lot; only closing it once they’d reached the gate. Sailing past Louis’ window, he stepped to the back of the board; tilting the nose up and spinning it back around to face the car, before popping it up into the air and catching it. Liam rolled his eyes. Fucking show-off.

Louis stopped the car, turning down the radio before yelling out the window. “You ass! What kind of a stunt was that? Fucking sick, dude!” Louis exclaimed, high-fiving Zayn through the open window.

“Yeah, Yeah. Hand me my bag, bro,” Zayn said, pulling out the cigarette pack he’d rolled up in his sleeve. He looked up, meeting Liam’s eyes and holding them, while he lifted the lighter to the tip. Taking a deep inhale, he withdrew the cigarette from between his lips, his tongue darting out to moisten them, before his teeth replaced it, a thin white line appearing in his bottom lip from the concentrated pressure. His eyes never dropped, following Liam’s when he tried to look away. The reverie was broken by Louis shoving the backpack out the window.

“You need a ride back later?”

Tuning out their conversation, Liam looked over at the action on the ramps. The crowd appeared larger than usual, a group of older guys lining the edge of the bowl, yelling at some of the younger kids working through their stunts. Liam had grown used to Zayn, and Ant and Danny Riach - the brothers he’d become acquainted with during the first summer. While the Riach brothers seemed to thrive on parties, tattoos, and chaos, the guys hanging near the ramps were on a different level of hard-ass. Passing his eyes over them, he brought them back around to where Zayn still stood talking to Louis through the window. He took another drag of the cigarette, exhaling into the car.

“I’ll see you later.” Zayn slapped the edge of the window, inclining his head toward Liam. “Get Aquaman out to tame the mighty ocean before he expires from boredom.” Then, stepping back, he lifted his hand to his forehead in a salute.

Liam sunk back into his seat and closed his eyes, the tension melting from his body, leaving him wrung out, as if he’d already spent hours on the waves. To his credit, Louis held his peace until they were back on the main road, the smell of salt air filling the car’s interior, brought in on the wind rushing through the open windows.

“So it’s like that again, is it?”

“Like what?” Liam asked, turning his head to the side to peer at his friend.

“Another summer of you and Zayn pissing on each other’s legs, all the while ignoring the obvious elephant in the room.” Louis framed his words as a statement, but the weighted question hung in the air.

“What the hell are you on about?” Liam pushed himself upright, turning in his seat to face Louis, arms folded defensively across his chest.

“Exactly that. Why don’t you just shag him and get it out of your system already? I’ll even throw a party to celebrate with the fifty quid I’ll win from Harry.”

“Shag?... fifty quid… ! Harry!” Liam spluttered, unable to form a full sentence. He whipped his shades off to glare at Louis. “Have you lost your bloody mind? I can barely tolerate a twenty minute ride in the same vehicle with him. What the fuck ever gave you the idea I’m interested in fucking him?”

Louis parked on the loose shale at the edge of the carpark near the walkway to the beach. Before he’d even turned off the engine, Liam had flung open the door and exited the vehicle, slamming the door shut on any response Louis might have made. By the time Louis met him at the rear of the SUV, Liam was furiously yanking his boards out of the hatch.

“Can’t fucking believe... with friends like this... as if I would… ” The muttered words fell from Liam’s lips, each phrase punctuated by him shoving Louis’ gear out of his way.  

“Oh let’s be honest— ” Louis began, before Liam cut him off.

“And you made a bet with Harry over it? What the hell is wrong with the two of you?” Louis opened his mouth, intending to reply, when Liam interrupted him again “No— just— no. I don’t want to hear any explanation you could possibly dream up. You might as well pay Harry now; you’ll never win that wretched bet.”

Liam stormed away. Reaching the packed sand, he dumped his bag to the ground, then planted his extra board. Eschewing the wetsuit he’d brought, he grabbed his longboard and headed for the surf, ignoring Louis’ arrival next to him on the beach. Hitting the shoreline, he paused long enough to fasten his leash, then raced for the water. Liam braced himself for the chilly water temperatures, barreling full speed into the rolling surf. Reaching knee deep water, and clearing the eddying backflow, he shoved his board ahead of him, holding on with one hand while diving under the approaching wave set. Clearing the other side, he shook the water out of his eyes, then pulling his board closer; he climbed on to paddle out past the breakers.

Even though the high season wouldn’t start for several more weeks, the waves were plentiful, and a good dozen heads bobbed over the waves on the horizon. With several strong, sure strokes, he quickly joined the other surfers, nodding at a few familiar faces in the group. Liam paused to catch his breath, taking the time to assess the incoming sets. He knew he should have done it from the shore, but he’d needed to get away from Louis, from the ridiculous bullshit he’d been spouting off. Blowing out a heavy breath, he inhaled deeply, letting the familiar salty tang fill his senses. He’d been surfing at Saltburn since he’d been able to stand on a board. The water had been his escape, long before he knew he needed one.  

After idly watching others tackle the first few waves, Liam eased himself into position. A small breaker rolled under his board, the lifting motion almost comforting in its familiarity. Checking behind him to gauge the wave speed, he leaned forward, furiously paddling to stay on the rising crest. Two waves merged behind him, creating a swell nearing eight feet high. Liam took full advantage of the added height.

Popping to his feet, he gained his balance, then settled into his stance. Cutting the wave bottom to top, he hung off the edge of the shoulder, the board catching air on successive cutbacks off the tumbling crown. Riding back down the face after a twisting aerial, Liam slipped into the sloppy pipeline, readjusting his position to sink down into a tighter crouch. Clearing the front of the pipe, he cut back against the breaking swell, before turning out when it fell apart in the backflow.

Liam dove off his board, rolling over to avoid tangling in his leash. He bobbed to the surface, swiping away the briny water that clouded his vision and stung his eyes. Behind him, on the shoreline, he heard Louis’ whooping shout. Taking a gulp of fresh air, he filled his lungs, then blew it out in a slow, even breath. And like that, he let it all go. Giving in to eight years of friendship, he waved over his head in acknowledgement, then duck-dived under the incoming wave, not quite ready to talk to his old friend, even if he knew forgiving him was inevitable.

By the time Liam hit his third wave, Louis had joined him in the flats. He didn’t say anything, just settled his board alongside Liam’s and stared out at the horizon. The sets rolled in frequently enough there wasn’t time to talk – a blessing Liam gladly welcomed. The last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment was hashing over his feelings about Zayn. It was way more complicated than he could explain, and Louis and Harry’s speculation hit far closer to home than he cared to admit.

They passed the next several hours in companionable silence, but Liam knew it wouldn’t last forever. Louis had never been one to shy away from a challenge, and when he latched on to something he considered a problem, he worried it like a dog with a bone, not letting go until he felt it had been resolved. Liam didn’t relish the thought of being his best friend’s summer project.

  


By mid-week, they had fallen into a regular routine, and after one other attempt to force Liam to talk about Zayn, Louis had dropped the entire conversation from the first day.  Of course that was not before he made a point of discussing the situation with Harry via Facetime— a conversation Louis took pains to ensure Liam was present for.

“They’re just ridiculous, H. It’s all so stupid!” Louis sat on his board, squinting into his phone, Liam’s snapback shading his face so he could see his boyfriend.

“So… it’s no different than its been any other time we’ve had them in the same place for longer than twenty-four hours is what you’re telling me?” Liam heard the hint of laughter in Harry’s voice, but he wasn’t amused.

“I’m sitting right here, mate.”

Louis flicked Liam off, while all but shouting into his phone. “They didn’t last five fucking minutes!” Louis dropped his tone when Liam shushed him with a withering glare. “And I’m not gonna lie here. In Liam’s defense, Zayn is baiting him every chance he gets. Ya’ might wanna talk to your boy, Haz.”

“Still sitting right here.” Liam sighed and gave up, He lay down on his board and dropped his towel over his eyes in an effort to tune out his friends.

“You know why, Lou.”

“So you say, but I’m not seeing it, to be honest.” Louis retorted.

“Not seeing what?” Liam’s muffled voice queried, nudging Louis with his foot.

“Give them time, Lou. It’s only been three days.”

“Time for what?” Liam sat up and shoved his face in front of Louis to talk to Harry. “Is this about that absurd bet? Which, by the way Hazza, I don’t fucking appreciate making book on my personal life.”

“It’s not really odds, Li. More like… ummm… a pool.” Harry paused, then added, “I mean, it’s not that we think it won’t happen, we’re just… hedging our options over a potential timeline for when the inevitable will happen.”

“Inevitable? What the fuck are you on about? I haven’t even said five words to him since the day I got here.” Liam growled in frustration.

“A conversation isn’t necessary to shag him senseless, Liam.” Smirking, Harry continued, “Oh, and somewhere around the tenth would be good. I locked down the whole week.”

“Oi! Not fair, Haz!” Louis protested. “I’ve known him longer, haven’t I? If anyone has a right to call in favors it’d be me.”

“Don’t be testy, Lou. Besides, Liam and Zayn will figure it out in their own time, so let’s not interfere.” Harry laughed again.

“Oh piss off, both of you.” Disgusted, Liam pushed to his feet. “I’m going to grab something to eat.”

“Bring me back a bag of crisps!” Louis called after him.

Liam flipped him off over his shoulder. “Get your own damn crisps!” He snapped back, knowing damn right and well he’d buy Louis the crisps, and probably a burger, too. He couldn’t stay mad, no matter how annoyed they made him. The vein of truth that underscored their machinations made it fucking impossible to deny they had valid reasons for their beliefs. Didn’t mean he was going to prostrate himself at Zayn’s feet and beg for a kernel of his affection either. Not bloody likely.

Liam and Louis often surfed first thing in the morning in an effort to avoid the crowds and catch the early high tide. They’d swap off on the drive, Liam waiting bleary-eyed by the mailbox with an extra cup of tea on the days Louis drove, and Louis invariably not even out of bed when it came Liam’s turn to haul their gear to the beach.  Knowing it would take Louis a good half hour or better to get himself sorted, Liam pulled out a slim pocket-sized book and settled on the sofa. He’d read through it twice, and it seemed even more like Greek now than it had the first time.

Liam could analyse the skeletal structure, every major muscle group, and the ligaments and tendons associated with both. Adequately applying critical thinking to poetry and literature, however, had proven to be a skill that escaped him. He’d already attempted the literature class last year, and dropped it during the first week. Unfortunately, he couldn’t escape taking it. What the hell some poem about a bird had to do with physiotherapy he’d never know. Not that it much mattered - the class was required for his degree and he couldn’t afford to fail.

He flipped through the pages distractedly, his eyes frequently drawn to the door of Zayn’s room. Liam hated having to wait on Louis. The knowledge that Zayn could drift through the house at any moment left him antsy. Harry still hadn’t made the trip down from London, which meant without Louis’ presence, he had no buffer if Zayn resorted to his usual taunting.

Suddenly, as if conjured by Liam’s thoughts, the front door opened and Zayn sauntered in.  A pair of sunnies covered his eyes, the ever-present backpack slung over one shoulder, and a cigarette tucked behind his ear. He stopped short when he saw Liam on the sofa, a slow smile curling his lip.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Aquaman,” he drawled, removing the sunglasses to reveal tired, red-rimmed eyes.

Liam eyed him with wariness. Despite the fact that Zayn looked like he’d spent the night shacked up elsewhere, Liam couldn’t ignore the niggling sensations that plucked at the edges of his consciousness. couldn’t ignore the fact that the man was sinfully attractive. He also would never acknowledge, at least not out loud, the reasons for it, either. He hated it. Had hated it for three years. Hated that subtle twinge of jealousy over someone else having been on the receiving end of the positive attention he’d craved from Zayn.

Determined not to be baited yet again, Liam pointedly returned his attention to the book in his lap, hoping Zayn would move on to his room. Instead, Zayn lingered, taking his time to toe off his boots, rummage through his bag, and hang up his jacket. Liam couldn’t help himself. He cast furtive glances from under hooded eyes, observing every lithe movement as if it were a ballet and he a captive audience. His silent, fervent hope that Zayn would leave apparently fell on deaf ears. Either that, or Karma found the entire situation a giant cosmic joke, and felt it necessary to also take the piss and rain on Liam’s life.

An entire room full of empty chairs, and yet - “Keats, is it?” Zayn settled into the opposite corner of the sofa, resting his feet on the cushion between them.

Liam flipped the page, still not talking.

“Reading for enjoyment or is it assigned?” Apparently undeterred by Liam’s silence, Zayn persisted. “Ode to a Nightingale is a fascinating poem. It’s an interesting portrayal of the transience of the nature of reality. Analysing the inherent contradictions of man and nature offers a deeper insight into the human consciousness, don’t you think?”

Liam gave up. “It’s assigned, and if you don’t mind, I need to form my own opinions.”  What the fuck was taking Louis so long? He sighed in exasperation and closed the book, returning it to his duffle bag, and stood up. The manners his mum had beat into him wouldn’t allow him to just walk away, though. “If you’ll excuse me-”

Zayn waved him off, then slid further down the sofa and closed his eyes. Grateful the conversation was over, Liam banged on Louis’ door. “Five minutes, Tommo, then I’m outta here and you can drive yourself.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but moved toward the front door.

Zayn’s languid voice floated across the room, stopping him short when he reached for the knob. “That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim.”

Liam’s heart clenched. He yanked the door open, letting it slam shut behind him, a melodic laugh following him outside.

“Did I fucking ask him for his opinion? Nooo! But of course, he’s going to chime in any-fucking-way.” Liam threw his bag in the back of his Astra, then flopped into the driver’s seat, fingers drumming irritatedly on the steering wheel, ignoring Louis when he opened the passenger door. “Fucking infuriating, arrogant, self-assured, cocky bastard! And that quote? what the fuck was that?”

“Good morning to you, too, there, Payno.” Louis smirked, settling his sunglasses over his eyes and resting his head back against the seat. “Had a nice chat with Zayn, then, did you?”

“Fuck off, Lou. ‘m not gonna play your little games.”

“Given your temper tantrum, I’d say it’s not my games you’re really concerned about, is it?” Louis turned his head in Liam’s direction, his expression almost gloating. Though Louis’ eyes were hidden behind the Ray-Bans, Liam felt them boring into the side of his head, as if trying to read his mind. “Look, Li, it’s not a crime to admit you’re attracted to him. Hell, Harry and I both think he’s sex on legs.” Louis chuckled to himself. “But this? Getting so worked up that you’re screaming obscenities in an empty car? Not healthy, mate. You need to find an outlet for all that pent-up frustration.”

Liam slammed on the brakes, turning to glare at his best friend.

“Just saying, Li. There’s more enjoyable ways to handle-” Louis waved his hand in the air for emphasis, “whatever this is that you’ve got going on here.”

Liam put the car back into gear and pulled back onto the road. “Shut up, Louis.”

Louis smiled knowingly, pissing Liam off even more.

“There’s nothing going on!”

“So you say, and yet you’re the one bringing it back up.”

“Why are you such a fucking wanker?”

“I’m not the one acting like an ostrich. Good thing there’s plenty of sand around for you to utilize.”

“Fine! You win! I’m attracted to him. I’ve said it. Are you fucking happy now?” Liam pulled into the lot at the beach and put the car in park. Suddenly exhausted, he slid his hand up under his shades to rub his eyes. “Now please, can you just…bugger off, Lou.  Because this entire conversation is fucking pointless and I’m done with you plucking at me until you get your own way. You’ve done it for ten fucking years, and this time - just this once - I need you to let it go.” Liam’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Please, Lou, if you’ve ever valued our friendship - let it go.”

  


Whether prompted by Liam’s obvious despair, or an overriding sense of self-preservation, Louis thankfully complied with Liam’s request and dropped the conversation. Instead, he tiptoed around Liam, doing what he could to ensure Zayn and Liam weren’t left alone together.  Somehow, the lack of interaction made Liam even more aware of Zayn, more on edge around the other man.

It had been almost a week since what Liam had termed “the Keats incident” in his head. Harry had finally finished whatever had kept him tied up in London, and would be in Saltburn by early afternoon. Louis bailed on surfing to clean up the rental cottage, and turned down Liam’s offer to help, leaving Liam to his own devices for the afternoon. Zayn, thankfully, had been scarce the last two times Liam had been at the cottage, so Liam had also avoided the mental gymnastics that dealing with the Bradford lad required. Needing a distraction, and being a creature of habit, he headed to the beach.

As much as he couldn’t wait to see Harry, his imminent arrival also left Liam feeling unsettled and on edge. Louis tormented Liam, but Harry tended to encourage him into introspection in an effort to resolve things. While he could ignore the former, Liam knew the latter would dredge up a lot, possibly more than he was ready to confront. He dumped his gear on the sand and grabbed his board to hit the waves. The wanted distraction never came, and even surfing did little to allay his building agitation. Giving up on finding respite on the water, Liam retreated to the shore. He planted his board and peeled down the top of his wetsuit, then dug out his sunglasses. He dropped to his towel and perched his sunnies on his peeling nose. The unwelcome side effect of being left to his own devices also meant it left him alone with the tangled web of his thoughts. With a jagged sigh, Liam sat digging his toes into the cold sand and watched the steady roll of the waves as they drifted in to kiss the shore.

Despite Louis’ belief to the contrary, Liam had never been in denial about his feelings for Zayn. He’d also known his initial attraction was, at best superficial, bordering on the type of crushes his sisters had entertained for the fit blokes at school.  He’d been attracted to Zayn almost from the first moment he saw him; he’d have to have been blind not to be. Liam also knew someone like Zayn was so far out of his league, that to hold out hope would be futile at best. But he’d dared to dream, anyway. That first summer had been absolute torture - a tug of war between common sense, sexual attraction, and sensual overload.  And while he'd never talked to Louis or Harry about the emotional rollercoaster he’d ridden for those eight weeks, by the time he’d returned to Manchester, Liam had vowed to never leave himself that vulnerable ever again when it came to Zayn Malik.

Liam rubbed his eyes, frustrated at the avenue his thoughts had wandered down. Determined to pull himself out of useless musings, he focused his attention on the younger boys still out tackling the waves.  It dredged up memories of simpler times, back before he and Louis were fussed about girlfriends, boyfriends, or anything other than coercing their parents to let them spend every minute of summer together. A westerly breeze ruffled the errant curls on Liam’s forehead, the shrieks of the careening gulls overhead a cacophony that he never grew tired of hearing.  He closed his eyes and turned his face to the sun, finally allowing its warmth to ease the thoughts that plagued him. He didn’t have to think about it now. Didn’t have to think about it ever, really, if he didn’t want to. Liam knew, however, in the deepest recesses of his mind, that he couldn’t truly ignore the complicated emotions that welled up whenever he had to be around Zayn. Until he was ready to unpack them, though, there was, as Louis had so succinctly told him, still plenty of sand to bury his head in.

  


  
Liam basked in the sun until he felt the skin on his shoulders tightening. Certain he'd have a wicked burn, he grudgingly pulled on a tee, then gathered up his gear. He dug his phone out of his bag and checked for any messages. Two texts and a missed call from Louis. Opening the texts confirmed his suspicions - Harry had arrived. He stored his board and bag in  the back of the car, then settled into the driver’s seat before listening to the voicemail.

_Leemo! Hazza's here! He brought Nialler with him, too! Get your arse over here. We're grilling out. Don't worry about going home for a shower, just take one at ours. Text when you're on the way. Oh and grab some sixers, too. Love you Payno! You're the best!_

With an affectionate, exasperated sigh, Liam tapped out a quick reply. He stopped into an off-license on the way, and barely made it out of his car at the cottage before he found himself wrapped in one of Harry’s bear hugs.

“Too fucking long, Li. Don't ever go all year without coming to visit. Not only did I miss you, Lou is absolutely miserable to deal with.” Harry leaned back, but left his hands draped casually over Liam's shoulders. “Promise me!”

“I promise.” Liam laughed. “At least one visit every three months, just to protect you from Louis’ strops. Fair enough?”

Harry pulled him in again, patting him on the back with a tight squeeze. “Not really, but I'll take what I can get.” Harry let him go, then stepped back to give him a once over. “Looking quite fit, too. No wonder Zayn’s in a mood.”

Liam shook his head.”Haz-”

“Oh stifle. I'll at least let you have a shower and something to eat before I wallow in. But we are going to talk. Tonight.” Harry held up a hand when Liam opened his mouth to interrupt. “Enough. Save it for later. Go scrub the salt out of your hair. I'll put the beer in the fridge and leave you a pair of joggers in our room. Food should be ready in a half hour or so.”

Liam handed over the beer, and dragged his bag out of the car. Shouting a quick hello out the back to Niall, he hustled into the bathroom. He climbed into the shower with his trunks on, shucking them off under the spray to rinse the salt water out of them, before hanging them from the hook on the wall to drip dry. He turned his back again, leaning under the spray to wet his hair, and winced at the sting of the water hitting sunburnt skin. He gritted his teeth, first rinsing the salt from his hair, following it up with a quick shampoo, then gingerly washed himself. He twisted the tap off and stepped from the shower, reaching behind the door to grab a towel off the shelves. After briskly tousling his hair, he tucked the towel loosely around his hips. Wrenching open the door, he glanced at his watch, not paying attention to where he was going, only to walk directly into the last person he wanted to see.

Liam staggered back, the unexpected impact knocking him off balance. Long, calloused fingers gripped his bicep, a flat palm bracing a slight frame against the damp skin of his abdomen, dangerously close to the inadequate tuck of the towel. Liam dropped his bag to clench the sliding fabric. Intent on keeping his bits covered, Liam barely heard the muffled “fucking fit” Zayn muttered under his breath. He didn't miss the sharp intake of breath or the flicker of interest in his eyes though. Or, for that matter, the way the hand on his bicep tightened while the one on his stomach danced across the ridged muscles before it stopped at the dip of his waist.

“I- Uhm- Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” Liam stammered, silently cursing his inability to keep his nerves under control.  Struggling to maintain a sense of dignity, Liam stepped back, moving away from the hand that rested on his waist, but the one on his bicep only tightened in response. Liam’s gaze shifted from his arm to the face of the man standing in front of him, then back again. _What the fuck?_  

Zayn stood wordlessly another few seconds, eyes focused on Liam’s hand that still clenched the towel around his hips.  Swallowing hard against the heat that suffused his body, Liam felt every second in the thrum of blood rushing through his veins.  Suddenly, Zayn jerked his hand away as if burnt.

“I need a fucking smoke.”

Zayn whirled away, moving quickly down the narrow hallway, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets and shoulders hunched in on himself. The entire exchange lasted less than a minute, and given Zayn’s reaction, had apparently left Zayn just as unsettled as it had Liam.  Liam watched him until he slammed out the door, then he snatched up his bag and entered Louis and Harry’s room. He pulled on the joggers and tee Harry had left there. While he and Harry were pretty much the same height, Liam had him on breadth. The tee pulled taut across his chest,  the sleeves only emphasizing the biceps Zayn had been gripping just minutes before. He raked his fingers through his hair and blew out a hard breath. The exchange with Zayn had left him confused and uncertain about what the hell had just happened. Maybe it was time for that talk after all.  On bare feet, Liam walked out to the kitchen, hoping to find Harry.

Liam found his friends hovering around the grill in the garden. Niall guarded the flames, refusing to let anyone else near the cooking meat, insisting “you wankers could burn water, and I’m not eating shoe leather for me dinner.” An Irish transplant, Niall attended Uni with Louis, and had been his flatmate their first year. When Louis and Harry moved into a private flat, Niall found one in the same building, sharing with a couple other Irish mates he’d met at school. Liam pulled the smaller Irishman into a bear hug, releasing him to ruffle his now natural brunette hair.

“Much better than the blond. You don’t look like a cotton swab now.” Liam laughed, ducking Niall’s swing, and accepting a beer from Louis. “You staying at mine, then?”

Niall nodded. “Yeah, mate, if you don’t mind having me.”

“Not at all. Better than staying alone,” he glanced over his shoulder, then added with a cock-eyed wink, “since Lou and Haz have decided my mum’s family home wasn’t good enough for them anymore.”

“Heeeeyyyy!” Harry protested. “You know we only did that so everyone could have a modicum of privacy. You’ve only got the three bedrooms and one bathroom. Somebody would have had to double up, and given three of you are single, we were trying to be considerate of anyone looking to engage in extracurricular activities. No socks on the door, no one forced on the sofa.”

At the mention of three of them being single, Liam glanced around the patio, knowing even before he did, what he’d find. Zayn had apparently gone further than just out for a cigarette. Fucking great! Just when he was ready to tackle it, the man in question had done a disappearing act.  Liam also couldn’t help the unbidden thought that Niall could have stayed with Louis and Harry if things with Zayn had been different. But under current circumstances… the proximity would be more than Liam could bear.

Drifting over to stand near Harry, Liam took a swig from his bottle, unsure how to broach what had happened with Zayn, or even the whole two plus years of everything involving Zayn. He focused on the horizon, not looking at his friends, knowing they’d be able to read his confusion once he did.

Louis continued his conversation with Niall, seemingly unaware of Liam’s inner turmoil. Harry, on the other hand, nudged a shoulder into Liam, repeating the action until Liam looked in his direction. He quirked an eyebrow, nodding toward the narrow path that meandered out of the garden and into a public common area. When Liam sighed and nodded, Harry offered a comforting smile. He walked in the house, returning with two more bottles, and stopped by Louis’ side.

“Li and I are taking a stroll. Go ahead and eat if we’re not back when the food’s done.”  Harry gave Louis a kiss, silencing any protest, then motioned for Liam to join him. Liam followed along, the indecision of the past fortnight having left him wrung out, lost, and desperate for any kind of answer.  That emotional unpacking had to happen sooner rather than later if he stood any chance of making it through the summer with his sanity intact.

  


“What happened? You were fine half an hour ago, and now… now you look like someone handed you a ticking bomb with no way to disable it.” Harry dove right in without preamble. His tone hovered on conversational, more so than concerned, almost as if he already had all the answers. Liam’s gut told him Harry knew something he wasn’t revealing, and that pissed Liam off to no end.

“This isn’t a fucking game, Harry.” Liam stormed over to an empty picnic table, stepping on the bench to settle his arse on the tabletop. Despite it being dinner time on Friday, the common area was thankfully empty. He fought to keep his voice level, not giving a shit that venom dripped off every word. “I know you and Louis think you’re fucking cute with your bet and whatnot, but its my emotions getting fucked with, my life being upended, while the two of you stand by and watch it all go down like its primetime telly.”

“Whoa! Hold up, mate-”

“No, you fucking hold up,” Liam interrupted. “I don’t know what you hoped to accomplish, but this-” he waved his hand in the air, not caring that the gesture probably made no sense in the scope of things, “I can’t, Harry. I just… I can’t.”

“Can’t what, Liam? Can’t take a chance? ” Harry joined him on the table, sitting close, but allowing Liam space to move if he wanted. “Look…” Harry paused, for the first time seeming to be at a loss of what to say. “You’re attracted to Zayn. Don’t bother arguing, I’ve known that for three years.”

“So? He’s a beautiful man, almost preternaturally so. Everyone’s attracted to him, and I’m only human.” Liam pressed a knuckle to the corner of his lip, biting the inside of his cheek while he weighed his next words. “Do you remember the first summer he was here?” He stared at Harry expectantly, waiting for a response. Harry nodded slowly, wordlessly, an open invitation for Liam to continue. “I'd never met anyone like him. He's quiet, contemplative, cynical. People flocked to him, like insects to a light. And that's what he seemed like to me - incandescent. He’d make all these comments, just… laced with innuendo. Everything he said had this edge to it - and his voice- it's like melted chocolate that you want to drown in.”

Liam dropped his hands to his lap and stared at them. He couldn't look at Harry, couldn't bear the possibility that he'd see pity in his friend’s eyes. Instead, he plucked at the nubbed fabric of the joggers. “The feelings were heady, sensual, and... I bought into it. I thought it meant something, that it was going somewhere. It was pathetic, and I knew it, and I didn't care. I followed him like a puppy, content with scraps of his attention.” He paused again, collecting his thoughts. “I don’t do casual, Harry, I’m not wired that way. And yet…” Liam swallowed, hating that he was even having this conversation, but grateful it was Harry, and not Louis. “I was willing to set that aside, because-” he waved his hand again, “Zayn, you know? He’s so far out of my league, that I figured if I lucked into that, then… well, I’d go with it and damn the consequences.”

“Wait! No! Fuck that, Liam!” Harry’s sudden outburst had Liam staring at him in shock. “Zayn is not out of your league! Who the fuck ever gave you that idea? You’re kind, caring,  compassionate, and loyal to a fault.”

“Harry - you’ve just described a labrador retriever.”

Harry glared at Liam, then shoved him off the table. “Oh- shut up! While your self-deprecation is charming, its grossly misplaced. I mean, you aren’t exactly my cup of tea - I prefer a fine Yorkshire.” Liam shoved Harry back at that, both of them collapsing against each other in laughter. “Seriously, though. You’re damn fit and quite easy on the eyes.”

“Well, fit or not, it’s irrelevant. After the third or fourth one night stand I saw Zayn with that summer, I  gave up hope that he’d ever see me as anything other than your friend.” Liam sighed and rested his head on Harry’s shoulder.  “That’s what I can’t do - I can’t go down that road again. It made me bitter, and I know I’m cold when I’m around him. It’s like a wall goes up to protect me, or at least - protect my heart. I’m realistic enough to know that the slightest hint of reciprocation would likely pull me right back in, and I can’t be that vulnerable again. It took me weeks to get my head straight after I went back to school that year.”

Harry persisted. “But what if the feelings are mutual? What if Zayn _is_ attracted to you? Don’t you want to see if there’s something there?”

“But he isn’t, Hazza. Not once has he shown any interest in me beyond taking the piss and being an irritating fuck.”

“Did you know Zayn has three sisters?” Harry changed the topic, and Liam glanced at him, uncertain where the conversation was going.

“No? I know you have Gemma, I have two sisters, Louis’ family could field a footie team. So what?”

“But until I told you, did you know that?”

“Of course I didn’t. Hell, I’m not even a hundred percent sure how old he is, much less his family dynamic.” Liam rubbed his eyes in frustration. “What difference does that make?”

“Zayn knows you have two sisters. He also knows their names and that Ruth is recently engaged. He knows you box, that you love to run, that you almost made the Olympic team. He knows dogs are your favorite pets and what you’re studying for your degree. Hell, he even knows your parent’s names.”

“But, why?” Liam hunched forward, attempting to make sense out of everything Harry had just revealed.

“I don’t know, Li, you tell me. Why would he hang on every word Louis says about you after you call? Why would he bother to remember all these inconsequential details about someone he’s not interested in?  Unless, just maybe, he is actually interested.”

“What do you want me to say, Haz? This is... a lot.” Liam shook his head, trying to tamp down the flicker of hope blooming in him.

Harry looked at Liam, his eyes soft and consoling. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what you should do. But you said it yourself- Zayn’s quiet and contemplative. Until he really gets to know someone, he tends to be a bit introverted, and I know it comes across as aloof and uninterested. Look, I’m not saying jump into bed with him. I understand why you felt, still feel, the way you do, and I won’t try to explain away the one night stands. I do know that he isn’t involved with anyone at school, and he’s never mentioned anyone from Bradford. Perhaps you could let the wall down a little and give him a chance to prove you wrong? ”

“I don’t know. I can’t even wrap my head around all of this right now.” Liam stood and brushed off the seat of his joggers. “I’m starving and I’ll lay odds that the food’s done. No promises, but give me some time, okay?”

“Fair enough.”Harry stood also, and after a brief stare down, he pulled Liam into a hug. “You know you can talk to me, right? Anytime? I mean, I get that you and Louis and are best friends, but I’m here for you, too, if you’ll let me be.”

Liam patted Harry’s back, before stepping away to return to the cottage. “I know Haz. The whole situation is… well, to be honest, it’s embarrassing. I’ve not even talked to Ruth about it, and I used to be able to tell her everything. This… it’s different, and I still can’t pinpoint why.”

“Well, if you can figure out why it’s different, perhaps you’ll figure out the rest, too,” Harry suggested.

Liam inclined his head in acknowledgement. Perhaps.

  


Liam left the cottage just after 1 o’clock in the morning, Niall in tow, but Zayn still hadn’t returned. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned, but set it aside to mull over everything he and Harry had discussed. The thing he kept coming back to, that plucked at him more than anything else, was his unwillingness to discuss the situation before tonight. Talking it through with Harry hadn’t made things seem any less confusing, but it had given some perspectives he hadn’t considered. But the one night stands? Those he struggled with, despite knowing he had no reason to. He and Zayn weren’t involved, weren’t really even friends, at the time, and no amount of wishing or hoping on Liam’s part then had granted him the right to be jealous. On one level he knew and understood that, but his heart still struggled.  And if he were meant to talk to Zayn and possibly see where it might go, he had to figure out how to let the past go.

The next few days passed with no drama and little fanfare. Harry and Niall accompanied Louis and Liam to the beach, then the four of them hung out at one of the two houses afterward. They’d eat dinner together, play video games, or watch movies until stupid o’clock in the morning - wash, rinse, repeat.  Zayn remained scarce from any group activities, though Harry was quick to make sure Liam knew he returned to the cottage every night, and that he was always alone. It figured. Liam had finally decided that he’d make an effort to get to know Zayn better, to see what happened if he let go of the animosity, and the opportunity failed to present itself. With no other option, Liam resigned himself to the fact that he’d have to wait out Zayn’s latest strop, especially since he knew that he’d indirectly been responsible for it, even if their last encounter hadn’t technically been his fault.

Thursday morning dawned with overcast skies, a steady drizzle, and a drop in temperature accompanying a low that settled over the coast. A bit of rain never stopped Liam from surfing, not when he had so few opportunities to do it outside of the eight weeks he spent in Saltburn. He re-packed his bag, adding a full-length wetsuit to protect against the  colder water, then set off to pick up Louis.

All the lights were out, but Liam had become accustomed to having to drag Louis out of bed in the morning. He sent a quick text from the car, then quietly entered the cottage. Not expecting to see anyone, he almost jumped out of his skin at the sight of Zayn asleep on the sofa, a book lying open on his stomach. Liam paused a minute to slow his heart, then tiptoed down the hallway to tap on Louis’ bedroom door.  He waited, and hearing no movement, knocked a little harder, glancing furtively back to the living room as he did.

From within the room he heard the bed creak, then “Give me five, Payno. Be a love and make me a cuppa.” Liam tapped the door to acknowledge Louis, then turned and walked to the kitchen.

Watery light filtered through the open curtains, the sun struggling to break through the heavy clouds. Leaving the light off so as not to disturb the man sleeping on the sofa, Liam checked the water level in the kettle, added to it, then set it to heat. The cupboard creaked when he opened it, and he snuck another quick glance into the other room, before pulling out a couple of cups. He dropped tea bags in both, also removing the milk from the refrigerator and setting it on the counter, then added a half spoon of sugar to his cup while waiting for the kettle to pop. So focused on pouring water in the cups, Liam almost spilt it all over the counter when a gravelly voice spoke behind him.

“I’ll take one of those, too, if you don’t mind.”

Not sure he could speak past the sudden lump in his throat, Liam nodded and pulled a third cup out. He finished making his own cup and added milk to Louis’ while Zayn’s cup steeped. Each movement was slow, deliberate, and necessary for him to gather his composure before he turned around. It didn’t matter.

The man standing there was the vision of rumpled sex. Tousled hair, the visible hint of fingers having been dragged through it. Sleepy doe eyes hooded by thick lashes. A heavy shadow of scruff across an angular jaw, softened only by the crease in his cheek from the pillow. His hoodie hung open, no t-shirt underneath, and grey joggers barely rested on narrow hips. Tattoos littered the exposed torso and it took all Liam had in him not to stare, much less reach out to trace the myriad designs etched on Zayn’s skin. He handed over the cup of tea, then quickly grabbed his own, cradling it in both hands to ensure he didn’t do anything stupid.

Liam settled against the counter, grateful for its support behind him. He closed his eyes, the steam from the cup rising up to tickle his nose. He breathed deep, then took a hesitant sip, wincing from the blistering heat. A slight brush against his arm made him jump, the hot tea splashing across his hand.

“Sorry. I just need-” Zayn reached around him, the heady scent of sandalwood filling Liam’s nostrils, “a spot of milk.” He stepped back and shook the carton in his hand, a soft smile curling his lip in apology.  

Liam caught himself up short, fighting the instinct to lean into Zayn’s retreating aura like a morning glory unfurling for the rising sun. He gripped his cup tighter and took a large swallow, the burn on his tongue grounding him even further. Shooting a glance down the hall, he sent up a silent prayer that the door would open. No fucking luck.

“You headed to the beach in this?” Zayn spoke softly, his head inclined toward the window.

“It’s just a bit of rain.” _Did that sound trite?_ _Short?_ Liam took a breath to steady himself, then continued. “So long as there’s no lightning, its safe, and the storm stirs up the water.” Liam shrugged. “The waves will be bigger.”

“Can I come with?”

Liam’s head shot up to study the man across from him, uncertain if he was being mocked. Seeing no hint of it, Liam nodded. “Yeah, I don’t mind. There’s a shelter if the rain picks up.”

Zayn finished his tea and set the cup in the sink. “Alright. Let me grab my stuff. I’ll only be a minute.” He headed out of the room, pausing at the door. “Hey Aquaman?”Liam looked up from the cup he’d refocused his attention on. “Thanks.”

From the hall, Liam heard muffled voices, followed by a closing door. Louis entered the kitchen. He accepted the cup Liam handed him, taking a sip, then offered a grateful smile.

“Sorry I wasn’t up. You ready to go?”

“Soon as Zayn comes back.” Liam turned away and rinsed his cup out.

“Soon as Zayn comes back.” Louis repeated Liam’s words back at him, adding a pause after each one and an inquisitive lilt at the end. “Did I miss something?”

“He asked to come with, I said yes. Simple as that.”

“You held a civil conversation? With Zayn? And I missed it? Harry’s never going to believe me when I tell him.” Louis’ tone teased, though his eyes searched Liam’s.

“Oh, I think there’s very little that would surprise Harry right now,” Liam replied with a shrug. He held Louis’ gaze without blinking, and mentally patted himself on the back at not caving to his obvious attempt to dig for more information. Even the lip-quivering moue he shot Liam as he left the room wouldn’t budge his resolve. He smirked. Finally, fucking finally! He’d had the last word and left his friend speechless. For the first time all summer, he didn’t feel like the world had spiraled out of control, and he wanted to bask in the awareness.

Zayn sat on the arm of the sofa, a beanie tugged low on his hair, backpack pulled over his shoulders, and one of his skateboards leaned against his leg. He fiddled nervously with a shock of hair that hung across his forehead, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Liam cleared his throat and Zayn looked up, swiping the piece of hair back under the beanie before he stood up. He grabbed the board and tucked it under his arm.

“Ready?” Liam asked, already moving toward the front door.

“Yeah.” Zayn looked between Liam and Louis, offering a tentative smile to the former, before focusing his attention on the latter. “Lou, do you have a windcheater I can borrow? I don’t want to wear my leather down to the beach in this weather.”

“I don’t have a spare, just the one I’m wearing.” Louis said, adding “I can check Hazza’s things, see if he brought one?”

“Nah, you and Aquaman are already running late. I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

“I have one in the car you can use. I’ll be in a wetsuit most of the day, anyway.” _Shit! Did he really just say that?_ He glanced at Louis to find him staring back, his mouth hanging open. Yep. He really did just say that.

Zayn opened the door to the backseat, settling in behind Louis. Liam watched him in the mirror, noting that though he’d pulled out his iPhone, he’d simply plugged in his headphones and tucked an earbud into the ear farthest away from his companions. Unlike the last time he’d been in the car with them, he sat in silence in the backseat, content to let the conversation flow around him, rather than monopolize it. _Maybe he’s decided to make an effort too,_ Liam thought to himself, not wanting to give the faint stirring of hope in his chest too much to cling to. With another glance in the mirror, he focused on the road, mindful of the inclement conditions. Traffic was light, most of the other vacationers still tucked in bed, and the weather would ensure many wouldn’t venture near the beach. Liam found a parking space near the path down to the shore, and carefully pulled the car into the spot.

The storm had hit a lull, the rain barely a mist and the wind almost nil. They piled out of the car, quick to take advantage of the calmer conditions to reach the shelter before the next band of showers moved through. When Liam opened the trunk for his gear, he paused to dig through his bag and found the windcheater rolled up in the corner. He took it out, giving it a shake, then passed it to Zayn.

“A bit wrinkled, but it should do the job.” He shrugged, returning his attention to hauling his board out. He nodded in response to Zayn’s murmured thanks, and ignored the hipcheck from Louis. “The shelter is at the bottom of the hill. I doubt anyone will be in there, but you’ll find a couple tables and some vending machines.”

“Yeah. I remember from last year.” Zayn replied.

Liam nodded, then closed the trunk and turned, almost dropping the board in his hand.  Only a few centimeters separated them in height, but Liam was certain he outweighed Zayn by two stone, at least. The jacket hung loosely on his slight frame, the hem skirting him near mid thigh. An unexpected surge coursed  through him at the sight— an overwhelming need to envelop the smaller man and protect him. Focused on fastening the zipper and tightening the drawstrings, Zayn apparently hadn’t noticed the lapse in conversation, though a quick side-eye at Louis confirmed he’d caught it. Liam inwardly groaned. No way would Louis let it go, not with everything that had already happened that morning. He’d be infuriating. So much so, Liam considered sending Harry a text warning him to either reign Louis in a bit longer, or he’d face the very real possibility of having his fiance’ drowned. Liam felt certain he could make it appear accidental, too.  With a silencing glare in Louis’ direction, Liam led the way down the hill.

  
  


“He just invited himself?” Harry hissed under his breath, his eyes focused on the other room, where Zayn, Niall, and Louis played FIFA. “And why was he wearing your jacket when you got back?”

Liam shook his head, swallowing the bite of sandwich before he replied. “Not exactly.  I made him a cup of tea, he asked if we were going surfing, then asked if he could come with. It wasn’t some big life altering conversation. Just mates hanging out.” Liam popped a couple crisps in his mouth and wiped his hands on a napkin. “As for my cheater- it was raining and he didn’t have anything but a hoodie or his leather jacket. I let him borrow it because I didn’t need it while surfing, and I’d already be wet after, anyway, so I didn't really have a use for it. Besides, isn’t that what you wanted? For us to be friends?”

“I want you to do and be whatever feels right. If it’s friendship, then cool, but you know my thoughts on you two being more than friends.” Harry sidled closer to Liam, his voice still low enough not be overheard.  “I can’t help feeling like you’re both waiting for fate to throw the other shoe into the ring, though, rather than just taking a leap on your own.”

Louis bounced into the kitchen and spared Liam from having to reply.

“Do you need anything while I’m out?” Louis picked his keys up from the dish on the table and leaned in to give Harry a quick kiss.

“You’re going out? Where?” Harry returned the kiss, but held Louis’ arm while he waited for an answer.

“Those skate guys Zayn chills with - uhm… Ant and Danny - they called to hang out and he asked if I’d drive him over to the skate park to meet up with them. I told him to just take the Rover, but he wasn’t sure what the plans were, so he didn’t want to worry about getting it back here.”

“Maybe pick up some ice cream? I’d planned to suggest going out for it later, but we could just have some here and watch a movie, instead.” Harry closed the freezer door. “You staying, Liam?”

“Maybe long enough for a film. I’m still trying to get through this damn Keats book for Lit, and I really need to give it another go.”

“Fair enough, mate. Still vanilla?” Louis slid the keys into his pocket and checked for his wallet.

“Only for my ice cream.” Liam winked and Harry groaned at the ridiculous line Liam had used for as long as he’d known him.

“That’s enough TMI, thanks.” Harry shook his head.

“What’s TMI?” Niall asked as he entered the kitchen, his hand buried in a bag of crisps, Zayn right behind him, carrying his skateboard and backpack.

“Liam only likes vanilla.” Louis laughed, then smirked when Zayn stopped short, suddenly overcome by a coughing fit. Louis flitted his gaze to Liam, earning a two fingered salute, then back to Zayn, who’d turned deep red and was currently being handed a glass of water by Harry.

“We’re having ice cream later, Zayn. I’m having cookie dough, Liam likes vanilla. Do you have a favorite flavor?” Harry blustered into the conversation,  attempting to diffuse the sudden rise in tension that filled the air.

“I like vanilla, too, Liam,” Niall added innocently, which only served to goad Louis further.

“I prefer a bit more decadence, meself,” Louis added with a laugh, earning a withering glare from Harry and a snort from Niall who’d finally caught the innuendo.

“Like anything in life, you need a healthy balance - a bit of vanilla, mixed with a generous helping of decadence.” Zayn stared across the room toward where Liam sat. His gaze held steady, unwavering and full of heat, while he studied Liam’s expression, obviously looking for a reaction. Liam unblinkingly met his glance, refusing to look away despite the butterflies flipping his stomach with nerves. The rest of the room faded from consciousness, leaving only him and Zayn caught in a web of their own design, each strand tingling between them with awareness.

Louis coughed, snapping the threads. The intrusion pulled Liam back to the quaint little kitchen, his knuckles white from where he’d gripped the edge of the table.

“You’d better go, Louis. I’m sure Zayn doesn’t want to be late.” Harry turned on his ‘mum voice’ and shoved Louis toward the door.  “See you later, Zayn. Have fun and be safe.”

Liam took another bite of his sandwich and offered a half wave to Zayn and a middle finger to Louis, not trusting his voice to hold if he tried to speak.

“Hold up, Lou!” Niall followed them out of the room, his voice carrying back to the two remaining men. “Let me ride with. We can stop at the off-license.”

“Do we need beer?” Harry asked, reopening the fridge.

“Probably not. And even so, there’s a good bit at my place he could go pick up instead of buying more.” Liam crumpled his napkin and tossed it into the bin, then set his plate in the sink. “He’s probably trying to horn in on your stupid bet.”

“But I never told him about it,” Harry retorted. “I wouldn’t put you in a spot like that, mate, you have to know that.”

“You didn’t have to. I did. The night you two got here. Things were weird, he noticed, and I felt he deserved to know why if he was staying with me.” Liam pulled a beer from the fridge and settled against the counter. “and I’m not gonna lie, I was hoping for an ally in all of this.”

“Aww c’mon, Liam. That’s not fair. it wasn’t intended with any type of malice. I genuinely believe you and Zayn would suit; you just need a push in the right direction.”

Liam shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Niall apparently agrees with you and Louis, so I’ll have to stand against you all on my own. Besides, now I’ll have an inside track on the dates to make sure neither of you win.” He lifted the bottle in a sarcastic salute, then finished it off. “Now. Until Louis and Niall get back, how about I hand your arse to you in a game of FIFA? We can make another little wager that you won’t win.” Liam winked at the dumbfounded expression on Harry’s face and sauntered out of the room. Let their stupid bet stand, it didn’t matter anymore. He would work through this on his terms, not their timetable. He would also be damned before he’d acquiesce to their machinations. Suddenly, being dragged into all of this bullshit had begun to feel like a win/win for him. If it all worked out, Liam might just luck into ending up with a man plucked straight from his wildest fantasies _and_ the satisfaction of beating his friends at their own game.

  
  


“In your face, Niall!” Louis crowed, then tossed the game controller across the room and tackled Harry to smother him with kisses. “Dream Team, baby! Fucking Dream Team!”

“Oi fuck off, mate! If you hadn’t spent every spare quid you had on coins your team would be shite.” Niall flipped Louis off, then settled back in the chair to sulk, while Liam wrapped up the controllers and put the game away, then hooked Louis’ laptop up to the TV to watch the movie.

Harry laughed and shoved Louis off him. “He’s right, Louis, stop gloating. I’m getting ice cream. Anyone else?”

“We can make sundaes. Niall and I picked up some stuff.” Louis scrambled to his feet to follow Harry into the kitchen and Niall and Liam trailed behind them.

Liam elbowed Niall. “What’d you guys get, mate? Hot fudge? Caramel?”

Niall laughed in response and nodded toward the kitchen counter. Every possible sundae sauce and fruit known to mankind were lined up, along with bags of candy, brownies, and biscuits. Harry set a stack of bowls in front of the potential sugar coma.

“Holy shit! When did you get all of this?” Liam turned and stared at Louis as he pulled cartons of ice cream out of the freezer.

“We carried everything straight to the kitchen while you mauled my fiancé in FIFA. ” Louis shrugged. “You were too focused on the game, I guess.   Besides, why eat plain ice cream when you can add - what did Zayn call it, Payno? - a generous helping of decadence?”

“Lou, stop teasing.” Harry warned. He shot an apologetic look toward Liam.

Liam shook his head to wordlessly let Harry know it was fine. After ten years, he’d become more than accustomed to Louis’ incessant penchant for taking the piss.

A barrage of gummy bears rained down on Harry and Niall, accompanied by Louis' maniacal laugh. “Don’t forget these lads! They’re aces when they’re cold.” Louis deflected and caught the Oreo Niall threw at him in retaliation, popping it in his mouth while he lunged across Harry to grab a small bag from off the counter. Niall recoiled and shielded the top of his bowl. “Put Haribo in your own damn ice cream, Tommo!”

“Nah, none for me, mate.” Louis waved the bag in his hand. “Big up on the coconut shavings, though!” He sprinkled them liberally into his bowl, winked at Liam, then scooped a spoonful of the gelatinous mess into his mouth.

“I think I’m going to be sick, and I haven’t even made mine yet,” Liam wrinkled his nose. “My God, Lou. That looks nauseating.”

Louis only shoveled another spoonful in his mouth in response. Rolling his eyes, Liam turned his attention to his own bowl. He sliced up a small mound of bananas and strawberries into the bottom, and had opened the container to add ice cream when Louis’ phone rang.

Louis looked at the display and shrugged.   “H’lo?” he mumbled around another spoonful of ice cream, then swallowed quickly and set the bowl down. “Right. Nah, man, its fine. Yeah... yeah. I’ll be there soon as possible.”

The others stared at him in confusion, and he mouthed _Zayn._

His eyes widened and he took a deep breath, before replying again. “Yeah, he’s still here. I’ll ask him. Yeah, for sure. ‘kay. Tell him to hang tight. We’ll see you soon.” He disconnected the call and sighed. “Don’t scoop that ice cream, Li. That was Zayn's friend Danny. Zayn took a spill at the skatepark. He's in A&E and specifically asked for you to come with me to pick him up. Danny said the doctor’s spouting off something about casts and crutches and he doesn’t understand half of it, and Zayn’s a bit freaked by it all. He’s hoping you can decipher for him.”

Liam had already shoved the carton back in the freezer and passed the bowl full of fruit to Harry. “Yeah right. Of course. Did they take x-rays? Might just be a sprain. When he fell, did he hit his head?  Does he have a concussion?” He walked toward the door and pulled his shoes on, not bothering to wait for an answer, while Louis grabbed his keys and darted after him.

“Call us when you find something out,” Harry called after them.

Liam waved over his shoulder to acknowledge Harry,  but he’d already slipped into research mode. He mentally reviewed his last two rounds of clinicals, combing his memory for potential injuries and the necessary treatments.

  


When they pulled in the driveway, Harry and Niall were sat on the stoop waiting for them. The light from the room behind them cast a soft glow, but little illumination over the front yard. Louis parked with the passenger’s side closest to the front door. Before he could get his seatbelt off, Liam had already exited his seat and pulled open the back door. He removed a pair of crutches and held them behind them, not caring who grabbed them, his attention focused on the man still in the car.  

“Just scoot to the edge of the seat,” Liam argued with Zayn. “It’s dark, the ground’s unstable, and you’re hopped up on pain pills. No one wants to make a return trip to A&E because you’re too fucking stubborn to let me help.”

“It’s fucking humiliating is what it is.” Zayn groused.

“Oi, suck it up, mate,” Louis chastised him. “It’s just us, and no one’s gonna judge you for needing a hand. Now— give me your backpack and do what the nice man tells you.”

Liam kicked Louis in the ankle, enjoying a smug sense of satisfaction when he cursed and hobbled away. “Come on, Zayn. I bench more than you weigh. Just slide your arm around my neck and I’ll lift you out.”

Zayn grudgingly complied. Liam crouched down and made sure the air cast was secure and the injured foot clear of the door. Then in one swift move, he slid his arm under Zayn’s leg, lifted him out of the car, and kicked the door shut.

“It’s a high ankle sprain.” Liam said matter-of-factly to Niall and Harry. He took his time up the steps and nodded his thanks at Niall when he held the door open. “He’s off it for at least two weeks, when he follows up with the doctor.” He looked down at Zayn and noted the heaviness of his eyes. His voice softened “Your room or the sofa?”

“Sofa’s fine.” Zayn mumbled, his head lolled against Liam’s shoulder.

“Harry, can you grab me a throw pillow so I can elevate his leg? Louis, his prescription is in his bag. He can’t take it now, but he may wake up later and need it. Niall, can you get a glass of water?” Liam issued the stream of orders without preamble, and the others jumped into action.  

He settled Zayn on the sofa and positioned the pillow Harry offered under the injured leg, adjusting it to the right angle. Zayn folded his arms over his chest and scrunched down into the cushions, turning his head toward the back of the sofa, his eyes drifting closed.

“His ankle needs to stay above his heart, it will help the swelling decrease faster. He has to use the crutches to move around, or someone has to help him.” Liam took the bottle of pills and glass of water and set them on the table within Zayn’s reach. “While he does have the cast, it’s strictly to immobilize his ankle, and isn’t designed to bear weight. If he stands on it, he could fall and re-injure himself.”  He straightened and looked around the room “Is there a blanket-?”

“I’ll get one,” Louis answered, already headed down the hall. He returned with an afghan and handed it to Liam. Zayn had fallen asleep, and Liam gently settled the blanket over him.

“Between the trauma and the meds they gave him at the hospital, he’ll likely sleep through ‘til morning.” Liam looked at Harry, knowing that he would be the most likely to follow the doctor’s instructions.  “When he does wake up, he’s to only take two tablets, at least four hours apart, as needed for the pain. They might upset his stomach, so maybe just scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast before he takes them.”

“But won’t you be here? You’re going to stay, right?” Louis’ brow wrinkled, confusion clouding his face.

“He doesn’t need me to stay, and you’re all capable of helping him.”

“He’d want you to stay.” Harry chimed in.

“He might,” Liam conceded.  “But if he does, then he needs to ask me himself.” Liam held Harry’s gaze, his eyes pleading with Harry to understand without him having to spell it out.

Harry nodded slowly, realisation creeping over his expression. When Louis protested, Harry shushed him “Liam’s right, Lou. Trust him.”

“I’ll call tomorrow to see how he’s doing.” Liam gathered his stuff. “Besides, I really do need to work on my English Lit assignment, and I didn’t get anything done tonight. You coming or staying, Niall?”

Niall looked up, perplexed. “Uh yeah,  I’m coming. And maybe you can explain what’s going on, cause I’m confused as fuck right now.”  

Liam walked to the door. Louis followed, stopping him when they reached the steps, while Niall continued on to the car. Louis’ eyes searched Liam’s. He shook his head, and asked,  “You sure this is what you want?”

“It’s not about what I want, Lou. It’s about what I need. I can’t be the one making all the effort. I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone, a lot. I need to know I’m not wasting my time.”

“He’s gonna be pissy.”

“Probably.”

“He’ll call.”

“Hopefully.”With a half-hearted fustbump, Liam left Louis on the steps and continued to the car. He settled in the driver’s seat and put his window down. “I’ll check in tomorrow. And Lou? Don’t interfere.”

Louis nodded in resigned acquiescence and waved Liam off.

From the passenger’s seat, Niall folded his arms over his chest, a muttered “Humph” escaping him. Liam ignored it, his eyes focused on the moonlit back road between the two cottages, his attention divided between driving and the sleeping man he’d just left. He gripped his phone, knowing it wouldn’t ring tonight, but it didn’t stop him from wishing it would first thing in the morning. Until then, he’d wait - impatient but hopeful that he and Harry hadn’t misconstrued Zayn’s words and actions.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! 
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, please leave kudos and comments. It's like air to a writer to know their work is appreciated. You can also come chat with me on tumblr about the story and characters.


End file.
